The Feeling in Your Heart
by ForeverDarknessFalls
Summary: A year after Christine leaves Erik to die, he finds himself saving the life of a mysterious woman with a rare ability. Soon he learns she is much more than meets the eye. Can Erik help her see the good in life when he does not? Mature for later chapters.
1. Choices

**The Feeling In Your Heart**

**Author Note: **This is my first fanfic so please review and be nice if you don't like it. I must warn you this is rated mature for a reason so there will be parts later in the fic you might want to skip if you can't handle it. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it. I've made some slight changes such as spelling and some wording. Nothing major.

**Summary:** A year after Christine leaves Erik to die, he finds himself saving the life of a mysterious woman with a rare ability.

**Chapter One: Choices **

Erik walked around the tunnel deep in thought. It had been several months since anyone had bothered to come down here. The search parties had given up months ago. Since that time he had done what he could to make his place more bearable. The fire had cause a lot of damage and left most of his things smoke damaged. Thankfully he had a lot of help from Madame Giry in find new things. None of the search parties had ever gotten as far as his home, but he installed several things in the many tunnels to alert him when someone had entered.

That is what had brought him here in the first place. Early this morning, at least he thought it was morning, he heard one of his alarms go of for one of the east tunnels. He continued to walk slowly and silently when he heard a mans angry voice coming from far ahead of him.

"You can't leave her like that. What the hell were you thinking? That is the fucking problem; you don't think you half-brained twit. Look at what you did. Cover her up. He will want to deal with her when he gets here and he won't be happy." There was a rustling of what sounded like material.

"Hurry up!!!!!" a deeper voice yelled.

Three men down here and a woman. Question was: what were they doing with her? Should he make himself known? That could mean another search party. Or he could just kill them all. He smirked at the thought. But no, he had promised himself and Madame Giry that he wouldn't kill anyone else. So he simply stood there and listened.

"All right now little girl, you be good and sit tight and we'll be right back with the one who so desperately wants to make you his own," he heard laughter and the cruel voice continued, "No point in trying to struggle, got you tied up real good." He heard their boots hit the floor as they began to move away.

Erik walked forward debating whether or not he was going to make himself known to the girl and stopped short when he heard another voice.

"Bet what we did to you hurts, doesn't it? Bet you wished you had obeyed, right? Ah, such a pretty little thing you are. Wish I could have..." Erik never got to know what that wished he could have done because he only heard what sounded like a boot connect with the man's ribs. The man howled in pain.

"Now get your ass moving. We don't have all day."

The three finally made their way out of the tunnel leaving Erik to stand there in thought. Should he save the girl? What if they came back and began a search if he did. He was sure he could easily take care of those three jerks if they came back, but if there were a lot more...he really did not feel up to it. One girl surely isn't worth his time. Maybe he should just leave her there. She was obviously important to who ever had her brought here. Then again, why was she here? A girl really couldn't be much of a danger to anyone. Not really.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard coughing. How long had he been standing there? His feet were aching. There was a rustling of clothes and the sound was getting louder. He could hear the patter of bare feet connecting with the ground and the sound was getting steadily closer.

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**A/N: Please review!!!!!!!!!**


	2. Trust Me

**The Feeling In Your Heart**

**Author Note: **I hoped you have liked the first chapter. Read on and don't forget to review. I need to hear some feed back.

**Chapter 2: Trust Me**

How long had he been standing there? His feet were actually aching. There was a rustling of clothes and the sound was getting louder. He heard the patter of bare feet hitting the floor and it was coming steadily closer.

His hands shot out as he caught the figure that nearly collided with him. He felt the person begin to struggle against him and hit him with its fists. Judging by the size of his attacker he knew it was a woman. To stop her, he put his left hand on her back, grabbed her left wrist, and pulled her flush against him slamming her back against the tunnel wall. He heard her gasp in pain and her fight immediately ceased. Her nails were digging in to his shoulders and her breathing was ragged. He put his forehead against the wall to catch his breath. After a moment pulled his head back to get a good look at her. He looked into her eyes as she stared defiantly back into his. He knew she couldn't see much, but he felt like she was staring straight threw him.

"Please, please let me go," she pleaded.

When he didn't answer her she began to try to worm away from him. He moved the hand on her back to get a better grip. As he did so he heard her cry out in pain. He knew he wasn't holding her tight enough to cause that kind of pain, so what was? Only then did he realize there was something wet and sticky sliding down his hand. He looked into her eyes and saw they were full of pain. He realized he could use this to his advantage and smiled to himself.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I...I...I don't know," she stammered.

"You're lying," he said and found one of the gashes on her back and pressed his finger into it. She cried out again and dug her nails further in his skin as though causing him pain might alleviate her own.

"Now tell me," he growled.

"Please...don't," she began trembling against him and bowed her head. "They brought me here." She began to cough violently. He sighed and just stared at her. She stilled in his arms when they heard the scuffling of boots coming their way. He looked down the tunnels and knew it was the three men coming back for her.

"Oh no, oh no," she looked up at him as though he was her last hope in the world.

"Please," she said simply.

He didn't know why, but nodded and said, "You have to trust me."

Her eyes darted to where the men would show soon then back to him. "All right," she said with a tiny nod.

He let go of her wrist and reached up to pull a string he previously ran along the tunnel wall. The second he pulled it, the rope caused a spark which instantly lit dynamite further down the tunnel where he hoped the scoundrels were. A split second later there was a small explosion and the tunnel began to cave in. He felt her move closer against him, if that were even possible sense it seemed like they were practically glued to one another, and he moved to her side to try to shield her from the dust and flying rocks.

When it was over he moved away from her to survey his work. He had orchestrated it perfectly. The explosion was just enough to create a grand blockade between them and the three men, instead of causing the entire tunnel to collapse on their heads.

He looked back at the girl only to see her with a hand against the wall to prop herself up staring back at him.

"I'll just go now. Ok? I'll leave and you'll never see me again," she said in a shaken voice.

"Well good luck with that," he replied coldly. "You are in no condition to walk far and unfortunately for you, the walk to leave is very, very long."

"Just point me in the right direction. I'm sure I can make it," she responded looking paler by the second. He snorted at her stupidity and desperation. "What do you suppose I do then?" she asked, glaring at him.

Only then did he truly realize the desperate situation she was in. He sighed and held her cold stare.

"Fine, I'll help you once again you ungrateful little thing," he said, every word dripping with disdain.

"Tha...Thank you." He swore he saw a ghost of a smile as she looked down at the ground suddenly seeming extremely shy. She pulled the rather large dirty brown coat she was wearing tighter around her. He looked away feeling uncomfortable and not having a clue as to why.

"Follow me," he said and began to walk ahead. He ignored her when she began to cough and stumble behind him.

After a short amount of time her coughing became worse and so did her stumbling.

"Wait, please. You...you are walking to fast," she began coughing again.

He turned back to look at her and saw her leaning against the wall with her hand over her mouth. He saw she was much paler than before and her eyes had begun to flutter closed. She was seconds from passing out. That just made his day.

He strode over to her, gave her no warning, and picked her up in his arms. "Sorry, I know it hurts, but it is much faster this way."

She looked scared, but nodded and rested her head on his shoulder as if she were to tired to argue. He had finally reached the boat and set her inside carefully. As he rowed he didn't speak to her the entire time, seeing as she had dozed off. When he reached his destination she woke instantly. He jumped out and offered her a helping hand. As she stepped out bottom of her coat flapped open a bit and he saw what looked to be bruises and nail marks on the inside of her thighs.


	3. Helping Hand

**The Feeling in You Heart**

**Author Note: **Wow, I couldn't be more excited. I just got my first review and it was a good one, so much thanks to Phantom's Ange. It is great to know someone like this fic. Now I would really like to see more reviews soon so I don't get sad, so please, please read and review.

**Chapter 3: Helping Hand  
**

He jumped out and offered her a helping hand. As she stepped out bottom of her coat flapped open a bit and he saw what looked to be bruises and nail marks on the inside of her thighs. He felt a powerful rage bubble up from him. He had risked his life for filthy prostitute.

Erik yanked her from the boat violently and started yelling at her. "You whore! That's what they wanted from you. You weren't worth the trouble, you are filthy whore."

Grabbing on to the back of her coat, he easily ripped it from her causing her to fall to the ground. In that same second he felt a slight bit remorse at the sight of her with out the nasty brown coat

She was in nothing but her under things and the back over her chemise was shredded and soaked in her own blood. It looked as though some one had taken a whip or maybe even a jagged knife to her back in a fit of rage. Her long dark brown hair was matted with blood, some sticking to her torn back.

She sat up gasping in pain as she brought her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. She put her head down on her knees and started trembling.

"I am no whore monsieur," she said in a small voice, head still on her knees. Slowly holding out her left arm she opened her hand and said, "please hand me back my coat so I may cover myself properly."

He stood there looking at her in shock. Her body was covered in cuts and bruises. She had been beaten, probably raped, and she sat there calmly asking for a dirty disgusting coat to cover herself with. Who was this woman? He looked at her wrist to see rope cuts marring her flesh. He went to hand her the dirty coat when he actually looked at it. The back was just soaked with her blood.

"I'll...I'll just er...go get you a blanket." He turned, walking, looking at the floor as he tossed the coat aside as he left to retrieve a blanket. Walking into his room he remember he only had one bed left and it was his own. During the fire, the swan bed had been destroyed. He glanced around his room. His eyes came to rest on the coffin that lay in the middle. He couldn't leave it there for her to see, so he quickly pushed the heavy thing against the wall grabbing a sheet to cover it with. Hoping to make it seem more like a table, he put some candles and a book on it. Pleased with his work he went to the bed pick up the blanket and walked back to where she sat.

He stood in front of her and she looked up at him. For the first time he was able to take in her beautiful features. Unlike Christine's fair skin, hers' was slightly tanned and flawless except for an ugly bruise beginning to form on her left cheek. Her eyes rested on his. They were a breath taking deep blue making him feel like he was staring down a bottomless ocean.

Clearing his throat he said, "I'm going to clean your wounds to prevent infection. But first I am going to help you up and take you to my bed." Silently he began cursing himself for his choice of wording, but decided it was better if he pretended there was only one to take that statement.

Thankfully she nodded and he bent down to her level.

"Just put your arms around my neck."

She obeyed silently clasping her hands together behind his neck. Holding the blanket up, he put it around her gently as he helped her stand up. Just as she was on her feet, she nearly fell. He picked her up easily noticing she stayed silent even though he knew he was causing her terrible pain. He carried her slowly to his bed and set her down carefully.

"Lie on your stomach and I'll be back in a second with supplies to clean out your wounds." He turned and walked away to find a basin, filled it with warm water, searched for bandages, and returned to her side. She was lying on her front just like he told her with her face to the side staring straight at him.

"This is going to hurt quite a bit."

She nodded and closed her eyes putting her head on her arms. He gently unwrapped the blanket from her back, but was careful not to uncover too much.

Looking over the damage he said, "I am going to cut off your top," feeling the need to explain everything he was doing so he would not scare her. She gave no indication she heard a word he said, but when he began to tear the remaining material apart, she tensed her entire body automatically.

Dipping a towel into the luke warm water her began cleaning the drying blood from her back. He then administered a salve to each gash on her back in the hopes of preventing infection. During this time he counted twenty-three. Some were minor, but most were not. One on her left shoulder blade went down to bone. Thankfully all the cuts, but that deep one, had stopped bleeding. He bandaged her up quickly and looked over his work.

He saw something very odd on her lower back that was obscured by the blanket. He slowly pulled the blanket down a tiny bit hoping she would not notice. What he saw surprised him. In fact he had never see such a thing on a woman of this nature before. On her lower back was a two inch long black dragonfly.

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**A/N: I'm having a lot of fun with this fic. Please look to the left corner of your computer screen, click on the link that says review. I do like encouraging ones and good constructive criticism. Thanks very, very much.**


	4. Dark Dreams

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**Author Note: **Ummmm, what does that black dragonfly mean you wonder. Looks like you will just have to read on. Thank you very much for the encouraging words Phantom's Ange.

**Chapter 4: Dark Dreams  
**

After seeing the black dragonfly he was sent into deep thought. He had tried to ask her about it, but she was fast asleep. Now as he sat at his kitchen table wondering why anyone in their right mind would have a dragonfly on them in Europe. Dragonflies were viewed as sinister here. In fact they were even referred to as devils needle or ear cutters. They were said to even bring about injury and evil.

That same line of thinking was thought by a lot of the world. There was even an old Romanian folk tale about a horse possessed by the devil creating the first dragonfly. Another one in Sweden told of the dragonfly being used by the devil to weigh on peoples souls.

At these thoughts Erik gave a loud snort. This was just typical in his life. A new girl comes into his life and she has a demonized symbol on her. He sighed deeply as he slowly closed his eyes. Maybe this was just a way for the devil to let him know he was making Erik's life as much like hell as possible. But then again maybe she wasn't such a terrible thing. When she had first seen his face she didn't react to his white half-mask. Not that it meant anything. She had been desperate.

"No...stop...stop it," his eyes snapped open as he was pulled out of his thoughts by these small desperate pleas. Getting up quickly, he rushed to his room as her begging continued.

"No, no, no, NOOOOO," she started screaming.

Erik saw she dreaming and thrashing around. She was now on her back kicking out at some unseen force. He felt relief when he saw the blanket had not uncovered her even with all of her violent kicking.

He went over to her and held her down trying to wake her up, but having no success. After a few moments he began to sing to her. Watching her face, he saw the frustration and fear wade away being replaced by contentment.

Gently turning her on to her stomach, he checked her bandaged back and to another look at the dragonfly to make sure he wasn't crazy. Finding himself not to be, he covered her up and walked back to his kitchen having a seat inn the wooden chair. Propping his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands closing his eyes.

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What seemed like only seconds later, he was awoken by the cries of the woman in his room. He jumped out of his chair yet again and rushed to her.

"No, no, please stop. Let us go."

He leaned down and began shaking her again wondering whether or not he should sing to her again. Just then her eyes shot open staring straight at him. What she did next shocked him. Instead of screaming or backing way from him, she threw her arms around him trembling against him.

Unsure of what to do in this kind of situation, he laid his hand against her lower back careful of her wounds and held her. He found it odd that now she was awake she made no noise. Didn't cry at all. He knew the dream had been a bad one, probably of what happened to her, and yet she wasn't crying. Either she was really strong or she was still in shock.

Thinking of her dream he remembered what she had been screaming. Let us go. That is what she said. Had there been two women? If so, what had happened to the other?

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**A/N: **HaHaHa. Curious at all? Please review. Reviews make my day. :-) 


	5. Deception

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**Author Note: **Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Things got crazy. I need is a beta. So if anyone is interested let me know, I'd be glad for the help. And now on to chapter five.

**Chapter Five: Deception **

Thinking of her dream he remembered what she had been screaming. Let us go. That is what she said. Had there been two women? If so, what had happened to the other?

He held her for nearly an hour. She finally fell asleep in his arms and he laid her back down.

All of this made him feel exhausted. For the next two days she slept, mostly. Every now and then she would cry out and he would be there at her side to sooth her. Finally he gave up and set a chair right next to her. He felt like had dozed in the chair for several hours, cause when he came to, his body protested about being in such a position for a long period of time.

Deciding to make breakfast he walked to the kitchen and took a good look at his sad food supply. There were four eggs, half a carton of milk, and a few pieces of bread. Hoping everything had not spoiled; he checked it all quickly, finding the food to be all right.

Pulling out a pan he came to the conclusion he would make eggs and toast. Not that he had much of a choice. When it was done he would have to force the girl to wake so he could get her to eat. The entire time she had been here she only had a little bit of water. He knew she was weak from the loss of so much blood, but the only way she would get better is if she ate.

After cracking the eggs, he sat down at the table for a split second.

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Waking up with a jerk, he opened his eyes in shock to find the girl standing at her sink rinsing her hair. She must have realized he was a wake cause she turned off the faucet, rang her hair out, and spun around to face him pulling her wet hair to her front.

Slowly he took in her appearance. She was wearing one of his black button-up collared shirts and over that one of his long black coats, which ended a few inches beneath her knee. Both were incredibly too big for her, yet he found it alarmingly arousing. This would probably be the first and last time he would wake up to find a woman dressed in his clothing.

"I'm sorry. I just woke up and smelled something burning. I don't have any clothes so I…had to borrowed yours," she quickly explained. "I tried on your pants, but your belts are to big, so I took your coat cause your shirt wasn't long enough." She said all of this with out looking at him, as if she were ashamed of what she had done and afraid he was angry with her. He continued to stare at her, not knowing what to say.

"I tried not to wake you. You probably haven't slept for a while. The food was burning, so I threw it out." She stared at the ground pulling his coat tighter around her. "I…I washed my hair in the sink. It was dirty."

With this statement his eyes were drawn to her face and hair. Now that it was clean, he noticed her hair was a deep crimson. It caused a strange clash with her gorgeous blue eyes that would make any man look twice. He didn't know why he ever thought it was brown.

Looking at him for the first time she hesitantly said, "I hope you don't mind, I'm sorry though if you…"

"No, no that's fine, I'll find you some proper clothing soon," he said cutting her off. "I should never have fallen asleep. I was trying to make you something to eat. I didn't expect you to be up so soon." Watching the way she was looking into his eyes, not his mask, as he spoke to her. She seemed as though she was transfixed by his words.

"How…how do you feel?"

"I'm much better," she replied quietly.

He stood quickly nearly causing the chair to fall. Where were his manners?

"Here have a seat, I can make you more food, not burned this time. I think there are still two eggs left if you want."

Shaking her head she said, "No, thank you. But I'm feeling a bit dizzy. May I go lay down?" asking anxiously.

"Yes, of course."

He watched as she walked over to his bedroom door, observing the way she was careful not to get to close to him. As she opened his bedroom door he looked away wondering if he had said something or done something wrong.

"Erik?" she asked shyly.

His head snapped up to meet her eyes at the sound of his name.

"Thank you for everything. Not many men would have gone to the trouble or have been so kind."

"It was no trouble at all. I'm just glad I was there."

"Me too," she stated softly. Then she gave him a small beautiful smile, turned away, and shut the door behind her.

She certainly was beautiful. He had not really noticed it before, but now after speaking with her, she was really pretty. He couldn't get over the way she never once looked at his mask, only at him. That is when she did finally look at him. She was so nervous and shy when she spoke to him. She barely looked at him, but he knew it had nothing to do with his mask.

Sitting back down again, he ran through their conversation in his head. What an idiot he had been when she started to talk; just sitting looking at her dumb struck. She was incredibly sexy in his cloths. Could have looked at her all day long. How could he have been so rude? At least he had been smart enough to offer her his seat. But why had she rejected him? Was she scared? He helped her. He saved her life. Surely she knew he wouldn't harm her. But maybe not, she was in a strange place, so everything must be scary, especially after what she had been through.

The way she thanked him. It was one of the only honest, most innocent thank you he had ever received in his entire life. She even was glad he had saved her. Him, the phantom, the angle of death. But of course she knew nothing of his identity.

Wait, she had said his name. Just before she thanked him, she called out his name. He hadn't even noticed at the time. Had he told her? No, he would remember that. Then how did she know? Not many people knew his real name, and yet here she was. Someone he didn't even know said his name.

She was a spy. He could feel rage start to course threw his veins at the thought. Someone knew he was down here and sent her to make sure. That had to be it. But who would bother? He stopped terrorizing the opera after Christine. Everyone thought he had died. It was her. It had to be. She was trying to see if he was still here. That is the only explanation that made sense. Search parties had stopped months ago. She was the only one who knew he had a thing with rescuing damsels in distress.

Damn it. How could he not have known? That bitch in his room must be a spy then. That is why she had no reaction to his mask. She was all ready prepared for it.

All of his reason was now blinded by over powering rage. Standing up fast, this time successfully knocking over the chair, he stormed over to his room fiercely opening the door. He stomped in determined to do anything to get answers out of her. And he really meant anything.

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**A/N: Did you like it? Just gets more mysterious with each chapter. What will happen next, I wonder? Read and review. Let me know what you think.**


	6. Questions

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**Chapter Six: Questions**

** A/N: **I hope your enjoying the story. Thanks to my new beta Phantom's Ange. Enjoy everybody!!!!

All of his reason was now blinded by over powering rage. Standing up fast, this time successfully knocking over the chair, he stormed over to his room fiercely opening the door. He stomped in determined he would do anything to get answers out of her. And he really meant anything.

Rushing over to the bed, it took him a minute to realize the girl wasn't there. His coat lay across the blood red Egyptian cotton sheets, but no girl. He looked around the room slowly in the dim candlelight. He saw her across the room in a corner. He approached her slowly, his anger almost forgotten.

She took no notice of him being in the room. She was sitting just as she had when he threw her to the ground a few days ago. Only this time she was much better covered in his big shirt. He had a wonderful view of her long graceful legs all the way up to her upper thigh. She was trembling a tiny bit, not making a sound.

He bent down next to her and put a hand out to shake her shoulder. Next thing he knew, she punched him right in the face, causing him to fall back in surprise.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed. Putting his hand to his face to make sure his mask was still in place.

"I-I-I'm sorry. I-I thought you were someone else. I didn't, I mean I..." she was looking at him in shock, eyes wide.

"You pack a hell of a punch. Where did you learn to do that?" he questioned. Surely it hadn't been a recreational sport. There wasn't one proper brought up woman he could think of that would bother to learn that sort of thing or would have been allowed. So just who the hell was she?

"I didn't, I just, I didn't mean to," she said trying to convince him.

Getting over his shock he remembered the reason he bothered to come in here in the first place.

"We need to talk. We need to talk now. And you will answer all of my question honestly," he said menacingly. "I'll be in the kitchen, so hurry up."

She nodded, and then looked at him as he turned to leave. "Promise you won't hurt me." Her big beautiful eyes were communicating fear of his wrath.

Giving her a curt nod, "you have my word," and he walked out the door.

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Several minutes passed and he began pacing the dirt floor. "Speed it up," he demanded.

Questions kept running through his mind. Who was she? Why did she think he might hurt her? What happened to her? What was her name? How did she know his? Why did she have a dragonfly on her back? Who hurt her? Had there been another girl? And God forbid, did they rape her?

The most important question to him right now was whether or not she was working for Christine. If so, he knew it would kill him. He had tried so hard to forget her. Not that he had, but at least he tried. Madame Giry even tried to help. She made him get rid of every single item that had anything to do with that damn girl.

But what if she wasn't a spy at all? No, that wasn't right. She had to be. Then again logic told him no woman in her right mind would have agreed to being beaten just to spy on him.

His pacing came to a halt as he heard the door open. "What took you so long? Trying to come up with a lie?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. She was back in his coat. Her long hair now in a lose braid.

"N-n-no. I won't lie to you. I have nothing to lie about."

"Fine then. Have a seat," gesturing to the one across from his own.

She walked over quietly. As she sat down, he noticed her wince in pain, but she tried to hide it by turning her head away from him. She looked back at him, showing no emotion. The bruise on her cheek was beginning to turn green. It was just many of the harsh reminders of what had been done to her.

"What is your name?"

"Kaydence, but everyone calls me Kay. My turn."

"What?"

"I figure you get a question, I get a question. We'll both be honest."

He glowered at her, crossing his arms across his chest. "Fine."

"Is there anyone else here?" she asked cocking her head to the side.

"No, where would you get the idea that there is?"

"Well, are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure I live…" before he got to finish his sentence a big black cat jumped onto the table.

The girl raised one eyebrow. "No one else you say."

"It's just a cat," he yelled, angry.

Her mood changed instantly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Don't be angry."

He watched her in shock. Just a second ago she was asking questions, even being a bit haughty. But now, sensing his anger, she was shy and nervous again, not meeting his eye.

"I'm not angry, just frustrated." She nodded uncertainly. "Anyway," he continued, "Kaydence, meet Elvira. She's a stray. I found her nearly starved to death a few months ago."

" It's Kay," she said staring at the beautiful cat in thought. "Wait a minute, do you know what kind of cat this is? It's a black exotic Himalayan. They are extremely rare. And you say you just found her?" She asked suspiciously.

"We are being honest, remember? My turn. What's with the dragonfly on your back?"

"Oh, you saw that," she embarrassed and uncertain. "It doesn't mean anything bad, if-if you think it does," she said quickly, wide eyed, as if hoping he would believe her. He didn't, of course.

"Given its' history, I highly doubt that," he said coldly.

"Well it just depends where you're from and what you believe in. Like here, as you probably know, it is associated evil. But in other parts of the world, like Japan, it's a symbol of courage, strength, and happiness. Native Americans believe it is a sign of purity and a renewal after a great time of hardship. So it just depends," she ended with a small smile, glancing at his face.

"But we're in Europe, and you're obviously not from Japan. So why do you have it?"

A sad look played upon her face for mere seconds before it was gone. "It wasn't exactly a choice," she said more to herself than to him. "My turn. Why Elvira?"

"The cat's name?" he question uncertainly. He was expecting something more like 'why the mask?'

She nodded reaching out to pet the cat.

"Well, it was the name of the Lady of Burgos, who is abandoned by Don Giovanni in Mozart's opera. Also was the name of one of the wives of Don Juan later abandoned by him. Just thought it seemed appropriate." He watched her a glint of silver on her finger caught his eye.

"Can I see that?" he asked pointing to her finger.

She looked at what he was pointing at and slowly slid it off her finger easily as though it were too big. She looked at him as if she did no trust him with it, but handed it over anyway.

Taking it in his hand, he looked at it closely. There were five lines and four spaces making up a staff. On the top, lay a treble clef and quarter notes all around it.

"It's beautiful. I take it you like music." He looked at her face seeing her anxiously staring at her ring.

"I play the violin and cello."

"Are you any good?"

"Yes, of course. It runs in the family. The ring was my mothers', before her my grandfathers', and before then his fathers'. That's why it's too big. I would keep it on my thumb, but it is annoying when holding a bow."

"I suppose it would be," he said handing it back to her. He watched the way she slid it back on her right hand middle finger.

"Do you like music then?"

He snorted, "I compose and I play."

"What do you play?"

"Everything and anything that can make sound. And by the way, it was my turn."

"Sorry, curiosity got the best of me," she said a bit playfully. Then as if in realization she might be getting to comfortable with a stranger, she bowed her head tucking hair behind an ear.

The questioning had started the way he wanted. Slow, just getting her to relax a little. It seemed to have worked. Now it was time for the interrogation to begin.

"Who sent you?"

Her head jerked up to look at him as if waiting for him to complete a joke.

"W-What?" confusion written all over her features.

"Tell me who sent you," he demanded raising his voice to a dangerous level. She just stared at him with a scared expression on her face. "Tell me now," he bellowed as he slammed his hand against the table causing Elvira to jump. The cat began to hiss and a quick paw darted out, claws ready, and swiped at his hand. Jerking his hand back in surprise at his own cat, he stood and backed away looking at three fresh bleeding scratches on the back of his hand.

Elvira stood on the table in front of Kay, tail all puffed out and ready to attack at any given moment. Her big pumpkin orange eyes looked at him as if waiting for a reason.

"Traitor," he muttered under his breath.

"You stay there and I'll stay here. Ask me anything I won't lie. Just-just don't come any closer," she said.

Great, she was terrified of him again. Not that he could blame her; maybe he could have been a bit more civil about the whole situation. But then again she was probably some kind of spy, so what did he care for?

"Right," he said. "But you will be honest."

She nodded in agreement.

"Are you working for someone?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion, "what do you mean working for someone?"

He sighed and ran his hand threw his shiny black hair. "I mean, are you here of your own accord or someone else's?"

She opened her mouth slowly and then snapped it shut. Anger began to creep across her delicate face. "What do you mean?" she said slowly articulating every word. "Am I here of my own accord, you ask," her voice rising a bit. "What do you think? Huh? Do I look like I wanted to be beaten and then put here?" Her entire body began to shudder with anger as she stood up. "Then you have the nerve to ask me that. How dare you."

"So you are a spy?" he asked eagerly, hoping to find out the truth soon.

Her body froze. "A spy? What are you talking about?" She asked suspiciously.

"Are you here to find me, I mean? Did someone hire you?"

She looked at him like he was from another planet. "What are you..." her voice trailed off as she was sent into deep thought. Then realization seemed to hit her when she stared at him with a surprised look on her face. "Wait a minute. Your the Opera Ghost."

"You didn't know?" She shook her head. "So your not a spy?" She shook her head again. Relief washed over him like a cool mist on a hot summer day. "So how do you know my name?" he asked stepping forward a bit, doubt creeping back into his mind.

"You must have told me…or…I saw it somewhere," she replied unconvincingly.

"No, I didn't tell you and I know you didn't see it somewhere."

Shrugging her shoulders she said, "lucky guess, maybe?"

"Yeah, right." He stared into her eyes; everything he needed to know was there. "Fine, I believe you're not a spy. But you are hiding something and I will find out what it is. Let's start at the beginning. What happened to you?"

"I..." her breathing became erratic and her eyes shut tight. "No, I-I don't want to talk about it." The blood completely drained from her face. She began pulling his coat around her beginning to shake.

He walked to her, suddenly feeling bad. Whatever happened to her she would need time. He put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped at his touch, eyes snapping open. "You don't have to right now."

"I'm tired," she said.

He steered her back to his bed and she sat down, looking up at him.

"Listen," he stared, "I need to see a friend later to get you some proper clothing, but you will need to stay here." She nodded, quickly to agree with him. "I'll be back soon though." With that he turned to walk out, only to see Elvira trotting in and jump on his bed. The girl smiled, welcoming the cat with a smile.

"Will you be all right?" he asked, thinking of the awful dreams she had every time she slept.

"Yes, I will. Elvira is with me."

He turned walking out the door only to turn back, laying his hand on the doorframe.

"Kay?"

She looked up at him, still petting his cat.

"I'm sorry about before. People that come into my life always turn out to be something other than what I first thought. I didn't mean to scare you. I just have a problem trusting people." With that he began to shut the door.

"Erik?"

"Yeah."

"I know exactly what you mean," she said giving him a tiny sad smile.

"When I get back, will you tell me how the hell you knew my name?"

Her mouth open slightly, then she replied, "I can try."

He nodded and left to see Madame Giry trusting the girl would still be there when he got back.

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**A/N: ** Hope you liked it, but I can't know unless you review, so review. Bet it answered as many questions as it raised. I'm evil like that.


	7. A Chat with Madame Giry

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**A/N: **YAY!!! I am now up to ten reviews. Next goal is twenty, but the only way that can happen is if you review.

**Chapter Seven: A Chat with Madame Giry  
**

Erik walk through the tunnel to one of the very few hidden openings he had not permanently sealed. Heading to the one in Madame Giry's wardrobe, he began wondering what time of day it was. If it were morning she wouldn't be back for quite some time, but then again if it were evening, she would be sleeping. He hoped she would be sleeping. Popping the latch, he listened for a moment, and he walked into room.

He lit a candle to get some light. There she lay on the bed snoring loudly. He walked over to her, peering at her face. She was somewhere in the mid-fifties and her wrinkles were beginning to show it.

"Madame Giry." She made some sort of incomprehensible response and rolled onto her side.

He sighed rolling his eyes. "Madame Giry, wake up."

"Yes, yes I know the Prima Donna is a witch," she mumbled.

"Wake up lady," he growled.

"I too think she should be throttled."

"MADAME GIRY!!!!" he roared a little to loudly as he shook her.

The woman shot up with a dazed look. Looking him full in the face, her shoulders slumped a bit, and then flopped right back on the bed.

"Oh Erik, do you have any idea what time it is? What do you want? The only time you come to see me is when you want something."

"Oh, well that's not _exactly_ true," deciding to try and charm her. He knew what he had to say would anger her and she would immediately jump to conclusions.

She raised a fine eyebrow: "Since when?"

"Err…"

"Right, it's fine I guess you were probably caught up composing."

"No, not really. That is what I came to talk about."

She sat up; interested. "About composing? That is not really my…"

"No, no nothing like that. It's ah, well…now don't get mad," he started slowly.

She stood up quickly, "Don't tell me you hurt someone. Erik you promised me," she said waging a finger at him like a disapproving teacher.

"No it's not…"

"Erik," she said cutting him off, "they all think you died. If you reveled your self to one of them I'll…"

"No blasted woman. Just listen to me. It's about a girl."

"Oh Erik," she said disappointedly.

"Don't get the wrong idea. Why do women all ways jump to thoughts of love?"

She turned away from him and sat on a near by couch putting her head in her hands. "Well then what are you talking about?"

He told her about the girl, but purposely left out the part when he had terrorized her. By the end she was looking at him like he was a nut.

"Erik?" she started tentatively. "Are you all right? I'm mean, did you hit your head on the way up here?" she questioned suspiciously.

"I'm not crazy," he said stiffly.

"Well maybe not, but your story makes no sense. Why would someone take a beaten girl to one of the tunnels? Have you asked her?"

"Of course I asked," he turned away throwing his hands in the air. "She won't tell me anything. She freezes up if I even try. She cries out in her sleep. From the sounds of it she was not the only one this happened to. She was just lucky." 'Well not lucky per say,' he thought to him self.

Madame Giry stood up behind him and put a hand on his elbow to turn him to her. "She may need a woman to talk to about these things. You really have no idea what happened, she may open up better to me," she said concernedly. "How about you bring her to me tomorrow night? I am a mother after all," she finished, making sure he knew she would do everything she could to help the girl.

He searched her eyes considering her offer. "All right," he said in agreement and turned on his heel to walk into the wardrobe.

"Erik, wait. Is that all?"

How could he forget? "No, she needs clothes and food. It just slipped my mind for a second."

For the second time she raised her eyebrow into a perfect v. "What has she been wearing?"

Shifting his feet uncomfortably he said, "My shirt."

"Erik what are you thinking?" she asked in reprimand. "Your shirt? Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

"Woman, I…"

She raised her hand to cut him off. "Never mind, do you think Meg's stuff would fit her?"

"Sure."

"Wait right here." She swept out the door and came back minutes later with an arm full of clothes. "Here," she said thrusting them into his arms. "I'm afraid we don't have an extra corset, but…"

"She won't be needing one for quite a while"

"You are sure she is all right."

"Yes, she just needs time to heal."

Madame Giry nodded, "anything else?"

"Food would be great."

"I'll go shopping in the morning and give it to you when you bring her here."

"Thanks," he said with a bow of the head and opened the passageway.

"Erik?"

"Yes?" he said half turning.

"Be good to her, and don't show her your temper."

"What temper?" he asked as he closed the wardrobe. He distinctly heard Madame Giry give a little laugh before she flopped back into bed.

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**A/N: **Did you like it? Let me know. Who thinks Kay will still be there waiting for him? 


	8. Empathy

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**A/N: **Here is chapter eight I hope you like it. Big thanks to Phantom's Ange, my beta.

Montaquecat: Thank you for the compliment on the cat's name. It just seemed so right.

**Chapter Eight: Empathy **

He stood at his bedroom door, holding Meg's old cloths in crossed arms, his head propped up against the door frame. He watched Kay sleep soundlessly for probably the first time since she came into his life.

Elvira lay against Kay's side purring. The cat turned its' head to look at him with her huge orange eyes that reflected the soft candle light dancing in the room. She yawned lazily, stood up, and leapt to the floor.

Elvira pranced over to him and began tangling her body around his legs.

"I'm not quick to forgive," he said quietly, careful not to wake up Kay. "Traitor," he added when the cat looked at him lovingly.

Elvira tossed her smashed in nose up in the air away from him and flipped her tail angrily. Then she walked out of the room.

Deciding it was time to find a place for Kay's new things, he walked to the closet to look for space. He really didn't have much, but the closet was quite small. Hanging up the stuff, he came across a pale blue skirt. He placed it on the bed next to her hoping just maybe she would remain in his shirt a little longer.

She stirred and he found himself holding his breath. He didn't want her to wake up to see him staring at her. He let out a small hiss when she didn't. He looked at her, not missing the way she was arranged on the bed.

Some how his shirt had manage to creep up and the covers down. He had a great view of the unusual black dragonfly on her back and the top half of her panties that allowing him to imagine what lay beneath.

'Erik, stop thinking about it' he said to himself. He walked over and did the gentlemanly thing; he covered her back up.

He moved to walk out, but stopped to wonder about how she would be if she woke to find no one there. She never slept well unless someone was in the room. She had told him she would be fine because that damned cat was with her. Now it wasn't.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He sat sitting in a chair next to the bed. There were still so many questions that remained unanswered.

What was with the dragonfly? She had been quick to explain in other countries it was a good sign. But what did that matter? She didn't live in another country; she lived here and was probably born here. And she never told him why she had it. This only reaffirmed his belief she was not a good sign.

Who had her beaten and brought to a hellhole like this? There were a lot of things scum of the Earth would do with her, and they may very well have, but they were going to get someone else. He thought back to the faceless voices he had heard.

They had clearly said master. So they were probably working for this 'master.' But why would anyone go through so much trouble to get Kay? It was clear she was different, but still. Maybe she knows something she shouldn't? But why not just kill her?

None of it made sense. Now that he thought about it, there was no way she was common. She was well spoken and oddly knowledgeable. The fact that she knew the breed of his cat was a bit of a shock. Maybe she had one just like it, but then again, like she said, they were very rare.

Sitting his elbow on the arm of the comfy chair, he put his hand to his head rubbing his temples, closing his eyes. 'Great; just what I need, a headache. Probably cause of this girl' he thought. Question after question kept running through his head, making him irritated that he had no answers.

"Erik?" He looked up at her. She sat on the bed, holding the covers around her, looking at him concernedly. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, it's just a headache."

"Oh, do you need to lay down? Maybe you're hungry. I can make you some…" she looked at him with a confused expression as her voice trailed off.

He just sat there blinking at her in disbelief. She actually cared whether or not he was okay. More than that, she wanted to make him feel better.

She looked around uncomfortably, checking to make sure she was covered properly. "Did I say something wrong?"

He cleared his throat, giving him time to come up with a lie. "No, my head was pounding. I was waiting for it to stop."

She nodded, but still looked suspicious.

"I saw my friend and she gave me some clothing for you so you'll have something other than my stuff."

He saw her glance at the skirt on the bed uncertainly, as if to say, ' is that all?'

"The rest is in the closet," he explained. "I didn't have a hanger for that skirt though," he said lying for the second time in mere minutes.

"Oh." They feel into an uncomfortable silence. He continued to stare at her. She however, looked anywhere but at him.

"I need to take a look at your back, just to make sure there is no infection trying to set in." He turned to let her arrange herself. "Okay," she said behind him letting him know it was fine for him to turn around.

His shirt was now folded next to the skirt. His eyes ran down her back slowly taking in every detail until he got to the point where her rounded bottom was hidden beneath the sheet. She was clutching a soft blanket under her arms against her body so he could see no detail of her front. She held her hands just under her chin looking at him uncertainly.

He quickly went to work as though he noticed nothing and his thoughts were pure. He took off the bandages, observing the way she would tense every time his bare hands would come in contact with her skin. The deep gash on her shoulder blade was still bleeding a little bit.

"Your wounds are coming along fine and should be completely healed soon, except for one. I'm afraid it will leave a nasty scar."

"Okay," she said almost happily.

"Your fine with a scar?" he asked unbelieving. There wasn't a woman in this world that would have given him that kind of response.

She turned her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye. "Yes, of course. Scars are something every one should be proud of. They mean you have endured and over come something awful. So yes, I am proud of it."

He gapped at her. She was truly different. Maybe this was the one woman in the world who would not look at his face in fear and disgust. Maybe something more like: admiration. But the thought was shot down quickly when he decided that it was different. He was born with this face, he wasn't beaten to receive it.

"I'll just leave so you can get dressed. I still have some eggs, if you want."

"No, I'm not hungry. But, thank you."

"You haven't eaten sense you've been here. I am making you breakfast. And you still owe me explanations," he said, leaving no more room for argument, and left her to change.

He heard her walk into the kitchen behind him.

"The clothes are very pretty. Tell your friend I said thank you."

"You came tell her yourself. She wants to meet you tonight."

"W-what? Meet? Why?"

"She wants talk to you and make sure your all right." He put the cooked sunny side up eggs on a plate and sat it on the table where he expected her to be sitting. Instead she was in front of the bedroom door looking at him with a terrified expression, wearing a dark green skirt with a matching white shirt and lighter green vest. The color really complimented her hair and completion.

"I don't want to," her blue eyes large and scared.

He sighed in response. "Have a seat," he said letting her know the matter was not up for discussion.

She walked over and sat down staring at the food he had made. "Is she nice?" she asked finally looking at him.

"She's the nicest person I've ever known."

"Do you trust her?"

"With my life. Why the questions?"

"I just don't like meeting new people," but even as she said it he could tell there was more to it. He watched the way she pushed the food around the plate not even tasting it.

"You need to eat."

"I told you I wasn't hungry."

He felt anger flare up, but was careful not to show it remembering what Madame Giry had said. However, she some how sensed it immediately and cowered.

"You're angry," she said softly.

"No, I'm pissed. There is a difference."

She looked up at him as if analyzing everything about him. "You have more questions," she said suddenly. "Ask away."

Taken aback by her forwardness he didn't respond for a minute. "Is this another I get a question and then you get one?"

"No."

Good no awkward questions to be answered, at least not for him. "Why do you have the dragonfly?"

"I told you."

"No, you told me it wasn't a bad symbol in other countries. Not why you have it."

"I was born with it."

He snorted, "Well that is a good sign, probably killed your mother."

She stood, her face flushed ghost white. "Don't you ever, ever say that again."

"I didn't mean it seriously, I was just…" the look in her eye shot his words down. He had hurt her and he had hurt her bad. But, why…god he was such a jerk.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. It was stupid." In his mind he began to beat himself up.

"It's fine," she said looking at her feet. "I've always tried to tell myself that I'm not a bad person, but I'm the one that killed her. It broke my fathers heart, he always hated me because of it."

"It is not your fault," he immediately began feeling angered at a man he had never met.

"I know, but the dragonfly always strengthened his belief that I was of the devil."

'How ironic,' he thought to himself. "I can relate. My mother always hated me. Told me I was the Son of Satan."

"Why would she say a thing like that?" she asked him dumbfounded. "I don't see anything wrong with you."

"HA!" he retorted. "What about this mask do you not understand?" he asked pointing to it angrily.

This time she matched his anger with her own. Her hands balled into fists at her sides and her cold eyes bore into his. "I understand all to well. Don't for one second think you are the only one in this world to be hurt by others. Don't you dare, Erik." As she said all of this she had steeped towards him, now they were less than a foot apart.

"How do you know my name?" was all that managed to come out of his mouth. He loved hearing her say it.

"I just did." Realizing they were to close she backed a way.

"How? You promised to tell me," he was starting to feel impatient.

"I…you are going to think I'm insane." She turned away from him and walked to look over the lake crossing her arms. "I don't know if you noticed, but I am a little bit different."

"Really?" he said sarcastically, walking up to stand beside her. "Don't know where I could have gotten that idea."

She turned her head to him giving him a small smile. "I thought you would find the information a bit shocking." She turned her head away and continued, "I, well," she began searching for the right words and twisting her hands. "I'm an empath," she said quickly turning to watch his reaction. There was none.

"An empath?" he said slowly. 'Why did that word seem so familiar to him?' he wonder. Must have heard it somewhere, but where? He began racking his brain. The answer was right there on the edge of his brain, it was…

"Erik?" she said pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, I was trying to think of where I've heard word that before." For the life of him he couldn't remember.

"You've heard the term before? Where?" she asked seeming intrigued.

"I don't know, but I remember what it is, or sort of. It's empathy but…"

"It's more like a curse," she finished bitterly. "How would you like to feel what everyone else is feeling? No, it's not like empathy. Empathy is when you purposely try to understand what someone else is going through. This, this is being forced to feel others' emotions. There is so much pain, hate, and anger in this world. I can't stand it." She crossed her arms, staring daggers at the water.

"So everything I feel, you feel it too?" He thought of the way she would get every time he was angry. She always knew, he even tried to hide it, and yet she knew. This explained a lot. "But that doesn't tell me how you knew my name."

"I don't know either. It just kind of popped into my mind. I'm not a mind reader if that is what your thinking. I just knew."

Hopelessness seemed to fall over her. She looked like she was caught in a spiders' web with no hope of surviving.

"Is there anyway you can turn it off or something like that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you think I would if I could; especially around you. Your emotions are changing ever ten seconds. I feel like your going to burst any second all the time. Can't you just go punch a pillow or something?"

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. No one had ever talked to him like that and got away with it. Well, unless he counted Madame Giry. Yet, he wasn't angry with her, just surprised.

"I know you don't mean it, your just confused and looking for what we all want," she said

"What is that?" he asked curiously. If any one would know what he wanted better than he, it was her.

"Love and happiness," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He was expecting something else, like; revenge or death. Death being at the top of his list. Everyday since Christine had left him to die he wished for it. The only thing that had kept him going was finding Elvira's starved body. Now it was this young woman.

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**AN: So, did you like it? Let me know. I'm still trying to hit that 20 reviews mark.**


	9. A Shared Talent

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**A/N: **I'm sorry this chapter took so long to post. I know it is kind of short, but a much longer one is promised soon. Read and enjoy.

**Chapter Nine: A Shared Talent**

"Love and happiness," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He was expecting something else, like; revenge or death; death being at the top of his list. Everyday since Christine had left him to die he wished for it. The only thing that had kept him going was finding Elvira's starved body. Now it was this young woman.

She knew him better than he knew himself. He didn't know whether or not he liked that idea, but he knew in that moment he would do anything to keep her safe. She was a victim of her circumstances, just like him.

"I don't need protection," she said suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts.

"How did you…that is not a feeling it's a…" he allowed his voice to trail off. "You are going to get really annoying."

"That is why I stay away from others." She looked sad for a second and then it was gone.

"So, how do you function in normal society? I mean, you really don't have much of a choice." He could only imagine what it would be like to be she and stand in the middle of a crowd. The thought made him shudder inwardly.

"I don't. I have a little cottage in the country away from everyone. It's quite peaceful," she said dreamily. She sat down when she saw Elvira was making her way over to them. He followed suit, crossing his long muscular legs.

"So how did you end up here?" hoping she would answer him this time.

She simply ignored his question and picked up his cat. "She is not very happy with you right now. You should say you're sorry."

"Why? She wasn't particularly nice to me," he asked, hating how childish he sounded.

"She only was defending me. You weren't particularly pleasant yourself."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "At the time I didn't know that you were err…"

"Special?" she provided.

"Yeah."

"Tell me about your friend," she said.

"Her name is Antoinette Giry. She is the ballet mistress here. She has a daughter named Meg, which is whose clothing your wearing" his replied watching her face. She seemed to relax, but some fear of him and the thought of Madame Giry still lingered. "You have nothing to fear from her. She won't hurt you. I promise," he said trying to convince her.

She nodded, but he knew she wasn't really agreeing with him. He could not really blame her. It was time to turn her mind to something he knew they both enjoyed.

He stood up and held out his hand to her. "Come with me, I want to show you something."

She looked up at him uncertainly, but took his hand hesitantly. He helped her up, but didn't let go of her hand. He had not really expected her to take his hand. Now that he had it he didn't know if he wanted to let it go. It was small and delicate compared to his strong masculine ones. Maybe it meant she was starting to trust him more. She looked at him curiously, but he shook his head unwilling to explain and tugged her along to the next room. He watched as she looked at the organ. Her eyes continued to travel when her eyes widened with glee as she spotted his violin case in the corner.

"May I?" she breathed, gesturing to it.

"Be my guest," he had been wondering just how good she was.

He watched as she hurriedly undid the clasps on the case and took the violin in her hands. She rosined the bow quickly and then tuned the strings to perfect pitch by ear. He found it highly unusual she did not need the aid of a tuner. Such a skill was rare.

She turned her head to the left and rested her chin on the chin rest. Positioning her fingers lightly on the strings, she raised the bow and began. The music stared slow and soft. She took long strokes with the bow keeping her eyes closed all the while. Her fingers moved, vibrating slowly, causing the music to build, filling the room with sound and emotion.

Never in his life had ever heard another make music come alive like he did. Yet, here she was, moving with the beautiful heart retching sound she pulled from the instrument.

However, the music was so different from his own. There was no mistaking it though, the passion was there, just darker and angrier. It was not filled with the same kind passion he had, but instead, pain, fear, and desperation. He closed his eyes as every terrible occurrence in his life came back to haunt him as her vibrato became more violent as did the music. But then her music changed to hope and his thoughts along with it.

At last it ended on a note that almost seemed happy. He opened his emerald eyes and met her blue ones.

"I usually do not have an audience," she said, uncertain she should have played at all.

"It was…" he began searching for just the right words, but there were none. "It was amazing. Who taught you?"

"I'm self taught. I always had an ear for music," she said putting the violin back in its case.

'Just like me,' he thought. "Do you sing?" he wondered aloud. If her voice were anything like her playing she would even be better than Christine. He found himself shuttering slightly. Just the thought of her brought him pain.

"Lord no, I can sing a little, but it's best I not," she said with a small smile.

He let out a slow breath of relief he was shocked to find he had been holding. He didn't know if he would have been able to stand if she had turned out to be a lot like that girl. "We should probably make our way to Madame Giry's," he said watching her face.

Fear found it's way back to it. "So soon?" she asked in a pleading voice.

"It is a long journey, besides the sooner we get there the sooner there will be food," he stated. "And you will eat even if I have to force it down your throat," he said turning quickly so she did not have the opportunity to tell him no again.

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**A/N: Hope you liked it. Let me know what you thought. Still trying to reach twenty reviews. Who will be number twenty**? 


	10. Rocky Meeting

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**A/N: **I decided to try something new and wrote this chapter from Madame Giry's perspective. Hope you like it. A thanks to Phantom's Ange, my beta. I also thank all that have taken the time to review. It means a great deal to me and I highly appreciate it.

**Chapter Ten: Rocky Meetings**

Antoinette waited patiently on her bed for Erik's arrival. Next to her were groceries and a worn light blue coat, which lay stretched out for the young lady. They were in the winter months and soon it would be snowing. She knew Erik's lair might get extremely cold and wanted her to have some of her own warm clothes instead of having to borrow more of his things. She still couldn't get over the fact he told her the girl had only been wearing his shirt.

Ever since unexpected his visit last night she had been wondering whether or not Erik had lost his mind. It seemed too impossible a girl would appear out of nowhere and he would be the one to take care of her. Maybe this was a result of his loneliness. She would never be able to forget the crushed look he wore when she first saw him after Christine left with Raoul. Honestly she didn't know how he lived through that night.

She remembered finding him sitting motionless staring into space: his expression a mix of heartbreaking emotions. He never acknowledged her presence, just stared unblinking as his tears fell silently. It took her nearly an hour to make him move and when he did he followed her like a dead man walking. She had been sure he would die of heartbreak. She had stayed with him for several hours waiting for him to say anything, but he never did. Finally she left him with the promise of returning as soon as she could.

By the time she got back, Christine and Raoul had talked to the authorities. Apparently they had watched the Opera Ghost die. They had said his body had been badly burned beyond any recognition and then buried deep beneath ruble when a tunnel collapsed just as they managed to escape. So they said.

Fortunately no one believed or knew any different, except herself, and, of course, Christine and Raoul. No one would dare contest the word of a Vicomte and a woman who had personally been tortured by the Phantom. There had been a few search parties looking for the body, and they came up with several Erik had disposed of during his reign. The authorities had wanted to put it to rest immediately and identified one poor dead bastard as the Opera Ghost.

When she had finally been able to speak to Christine and Raoul alone she asked them why they did it. They pretended not to understand at first, but when she told them she had seen Erik they told her immediately. They had wanted to give him a chance to get away. His life may never be normal, but Christine could not bear the thought of her tutor being arrested and executed. Raoul agreed to the story only because he loved his fiancé and wanted her to be able to sleep at night.

On her way back to see Erik she found a small-starved black kitten. Its hair was full of ash and dirt. She carried the small kitten with her as she made her way to see him. By the time got to him he was thinner and still not moving or talking. She did not have a clue as to what to do when she heard a tiny meow from the animal she held. Seeing many similarities between the kitten and the broken man before her, she got a strange idea. She put the kitten with the mushed in face in his lap and told him he better not let it die. For the first time he moved realizing there was a cat in his lap. Some how she knew then he would bond with it. She told him he needed to clean it and himself up and walked away telling him she would be back with food.

Antoinette could not imagine what would have happened to Erik if she had not found Elvira on her way to him. His taking care of the cat seemed to help him. The cat never judged his face, it was just there for him, never said a hateful word. And now there was a girl to take care of. Maybe his mind was cracking up. This girl surely had to be a figment of his imagination. If not, what would happen to her? She certainly could not stay in Erik's lair. Who would want a life without sunlight? If the girl was real, she would suggest the girl come live up here where she could be taken care of properly. Then she would find her family, if she had any.

She reached down, took off her shoes, and rubbed her tired feet. She had been busy getting the ballerinas ready. Now about year later, almost two, they would be putting on their first production since that tragic night. It was hard work; most of them were new. Several girls had left a year ago because they believed there might end up being a real ghost since the man was dead or there were to many bad memories attached to this place.

Fortunately, many patrons decided to back the old opera house simply they loved the wonderful productions, but mainly because the phantom was dead, there was no reason to fear any more. The ridiculous managers had fled; apparently they had been wanted for fraud in a different country. Now a Norman Dumas ran the place. He was a kind man and cared only for his workers and the production. When he was not here he was with his family.

Rubbing her forehead she began thinking of the unusual events that had occurred earlier. There had been a new patron who came to visit to get a feel for the place. In fact he seemed to be looking for some one, but claimed if he was to put his money into this place he wanted to see everyone that worked here. He was a dashingly good-looking man. His name was Armand Delancey. He had light brown hair pulled back and obviously worked out. Most of the other ladies had fallen for him then and there hoping to be a mistress, but Giry felt there was something wrong. Maybe it was his tone or his cold slate blue eyes, but she knew it was something.

Monsieur Delancey had looked at everyone carefully and asked if there was anyone else working there. When told by Monsieur Dumas everyone was present he looked highly disappointed and left with Dumas to discuss other matters.

Dumas had later confided in her Delancey was having the tunnels swept again over the next few days as a precaution. Dumas was no fool and nether was she, they both felt it was more than that. This she must remember to tell Erik in case he did not already know.

She got up and began to pace the length of her room. Several minutes later she heard a click of a latch knowing it was Erik, she rushed to the wardrobe to open the door anxious to greet the girl. Erik stepped out first and right behind him came a shy beautiful young lady. Apparently Erik was not loosing touch with reality after all.

Her fiery straight red hair shined in the light as she turned her head to look at Madame Giry with timid big sapphire eyes. Her left cheek was visibly swollen with a big green-yellow bruise. She looked to be late teens possibly early twenties, but it was hard to say. She was small, barely coming up to Erik's chin. Her under fed body immediately told Giry she had probably been abused half her life.

Giry felt her motherly instincts rise up with in her towards the girl. "Oh, child," she stepped forward to hold her in her arms, but the girl backed away nearly tripping over her own skirts. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you," she said surprised and looked up at Erik. He just looked back at her worried. He had obviously thought the girl would take to her better. "Erik, I think I need a word with you," she said nodding to the door. There would be no one in the hallway at this time. "We will be back in one second child. That coat on the bed is for you. Why don't you try it on?" she said kindly before shutting the door behind them.

"Erik, have you fed her at all? I could probably fit my hands around her waist with room to spare," she questioned angrily, pointing at the door. "Even Meg's clothes are to small for her and Meg is to skinny in my opinion."

"I know, I know. I've tried getting her to eat, but she refuses. I was hoping you could talk to her. That maybe she would open up to you," he said crossing his strong arms.

"I don't think that is likely to happen any time soon with what she just did. She terrified Erik," she said her brows furrowing in worry. She leaned her head against the wall slowly letting out a deep breath. "To think what must have happened to her," she said softly shaking her head wirily. "Has she told you anything?"

"No. If I ask, she pretends she did not hear me. But I did find out her name is Kaydence, she prefers Kay though. Her mother died giving birth to her."

"Poor girl," her voice dripping with sympathy. It must have been hard growing up without a mother.

"She also has an amazing talent for music," he said trying to hide the excitement, but Giry didn't miss it.

'Not another Christine,' Giry thought to herself. Erik seemed to guess her thoughts and quickly explained she did not sing and would certainly need no tutoring with the violin.

"She just as good as me, if not better," he said almost looking surprised at what he said.

"Really?" she asked standing straight her interested peaked. "Where would she have learned it?"

"I don't know. She's kind of special. She's…" his voice trailed off a glazed thinking look came over his face.

"Oh, no. Don't you dare Erik, don't fall for this one. She wouldn't-"

"Woman, it's not about that it's…" full realization about something seemed to hit him. "Do you have parchment and a ink?" he asked hurriedly.

"Yes, of course," she answered. "You mean now?"

He gave her a look that clearly meant 'No duh.' She turned to the door, but remembered what she had been thinking about earlier and told him of the strange Armand Delancey and his request.

Erik seemed to think about it deeply and then said, "Do you think it has anything to do with her?" he pointed to the door.

"I can't be certain, but it does seem like a strange coincidence. You found her in the tunnels and now this guy wants them searched. But Delancey is a very wealthy man, why would he be interested in a girl like her?" she asked doubtfully. "Maybe if we asked her?"

Erik shrugged his broad shoulders. "Asking her something is like talking to a brick wall. I'll mention it if she seems like she wants to talk." Madame Giry nodded in agreement and opened the door.

As they walked in a sight they never quite thought possible greeted them. Kay stood in front of her mirror with the baby blue coat buttoned, braiding her long hair, humming a happy tune. The second the girl realized they had walked in she stopped, spinning around blushing like a girl little caught trying on her mothers clothes. She immediately began playing with the ends of her hair keeping her head down.

"The coat looks great on you," she said trying to make the girl feel more comfortable.

"Thank you," Kay said without looking up. "I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to, I just…" her voice trailed away, but she looked up at her letting her eyes do the talking.

"I understand. Meeting new people is hard."

Kay nodded, obviously thankful she had understood.

Madame Giry walked over and pulled a quill, ink, and parchment from one of the desk drawers. She handed them to Erik and he began writing furiously. She walked over to her bed and sat down keeping her eyes trained on Kay. The girl did nothing but fidget nervously and steal tiny glances at her. There was no way this girl had not been mistreated before what ever cause her to end up here.

Erik sealed his letter, walked over, and handed it to her. "Do you remember the circus I was…well I need this to get to a woman that was there. And if you can't find her, then if she had a daughter or any relative will do," he said quickly, obviously remembering terrible things that had happened to him there.

She looked at him with deep concern. "Why? Erik? I don't…"

"I can't explain it. It is really important. Antoinette, please," he said his eyes begging her.

She couldn't help but nod. Such an action was strange from him.

He went over to Kay and she looked up at him. "We need to leave. Madame Giry needs her rest, she is getting up there in age," he said jokingly shooting her a look. She shook her head at him smirking and was surprised when she saw a small smile form on the girl's lips. He then went over to the wardrobe opening the passageway for her.

"Kay?" she said quickly before she left. The girl turned to her almost uncertain if her name had really been called. "If you ever need anything, even if it is just to talk, I'll be here," she said sincerely.

Kay's amazing blue eyes looked at her with a shocking intensity. It felt almost as if she were examining her soul. "You're a good woman Madame Giry, it's a rare thing," she said with a sad tone and turned to walk into the dark.

She found herself staring at the spot where the girl had been marveling at such an odd statement.

"I told you she was special," Erik said snapping her out of her daze.

"Yes, very special. You better be good to her." Now knowing better than to ask if the girl would be safer with her, she handed him two bags of groceries. Before he left her sight completely he turned and looked her dead in the eye.

"Thanks," was all he said.

She held up the letter, "I'll let you know."

He nodded and followed Kay out. She turned the letter over to look at the name on it.

_Madame Coralee_

Wait, she knew that name. Racking her brain she remembered. She had seen her once in her life and the woman had been right about everything. She had a reputation for always being right. People paid a great amount of money to see her.

_Madame Coralee was a fortuneteller._

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**A/N: So what do you think? Like it so far? Did you like reading it from someone else's point of view? Please**** review, without your opinions I can't possibly know if you like it. **** But remember, no flamers, only constructive ****criticism**

**Secretly wonders who will be the twentieth reviewer**


	11. Remembrance

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**A/N: **Hey to all my faithful readers, I hope you are enjoying reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. A thanks to my beta. Phantom's Ange.

**nightmistress92: **Thank you for your encouragement and for being my twentieth reviewer.

**Chapter Eleven: Remembrance**

When Erik and Kay got back; Elvira greeted them. She sat expectantly on the kitchen table, waiting for fresh milk. He put the groceries on the table and pulled out the bottle of milk pouring some in a bowl for the cat.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you," he said grudgingly. "So what are you in the mood for? We have eggs, bread, fruit, bacon…" he continued the list as he pulled each item out.

"I told you-"

"NO!" he yelled slamming a box on the table with crushing force. He closed his eyes trying to gain control over his anger. "You will eat," he demanded.

She stood as still as a stone, clutching her hands together so hard her knuckles were white.

"Besides, if you die of malnutrition, Madame Giry will personally make her way down here and kill me," he said trying to make the mood lighter. "I'll make you an omelet. Don't shake your head, you will…"

"What kind of fruit?" she asked head down, her voice so quiet he barely heard her.

He began rummaging through the food quickly, grateful she had come around. It wasn't much, but at least it was something.

"Bananas, grapes, and apples. What do you prefer?"

"Just an apple."

"Have a seat. Would you like it pealed and sliced up or just sliced or just pealed?" he asked putting everything but two apples away. When he received no answer he turned to face her.

She was sitting down staring at him with a surprised expression. "You would do that for me?"

Maybe she had no confidence in his cooking skills. The first time he had tried to make her something he burned it. But this was just an apple. Who in their right mind could screw that up?

"It's just an apple. I know I'm a man and we are supposedly not able to find our way around the kitchen, but I am a pretty good cook."

"It is just…pealed and sliced would be great," her big blue eyes telling him she had wanted to say something, but thought better of it.

He made quick work of both apples and sat across from her putting the slices on a single plate between them. Maybe if he ate only a few slices she would end eating nearly two. As they said an apple a day keeps the doctor away. The more, the better.

"Did you like Madame Giry?" wondering about her strange reaction when the old woman tried to hug her.

"Yes, very much. She has a kind heart, she may not want others to always know it, but she does," she said with a thoughtful look on her face taking a bit of an apple slice.

"Then why did you shrink away from her?" 

She looked away sheepishly and answered. "Well I…I wasn't expecting…I'm not…" her voice trailed away. She looked at him wondering if she should answer truthfully.

He was not a patient man by nature, but by now he knew getting angry with her would do him no good so he waited.

She drew a deep breath and said, "I was not expecting her to be so kind. Almost no one has ever been really affectionate to me, especially not a stranger."

He was surprised by her honesty. Never had he been around another so much, especial with one of the opposite sex. And she was not even normal; she knew his every emotion. She may not purposely always let him know, but he could see it in her eyes like right now. She was studying him, but said nothing. He noticed the way her eyelids slowly began to drupe. Glancing at the apple slices before he said anything, he saw they were nearly gone.

"You are tired, you should get some rest," he said finally.

She nodded in agreement and stood up making her way to his room. She stopped in front of the door and turned back to him.

"Where are you sleeping?" she blushed at the boldness of her question and continued quickly, "I mean, do you have another bed? I could sleep else where."

"There is no need, I have a couch in the other room," he said, again shocked with her concern for him.

"Oh, okay then," but she didn't move. He could clearly see she did not want to sleep no matter how tired she was. She was afraid of being left alone with her dreams.

Moving around he began to search, but did not find what he was looking for. "I know you are here," he said and bent down putting his hands on his knees. Looking under the table he saw Elvira all curled up. "Come here girl."

The cat picked up her head and stared at him unmoving. "Elvira," giving his best warning tone. She blinked and did not budge.

"She is still not happy with you," Kay said amused. She was now bent to the ground looking at him between the table and chair legs.

He gave a deep sigh not believing what he was about to do. "I'm sorry," he said to the cat crossly.

Elvira got up and pranced over to him. She marked his hand lovingly flipping her tail around his leg.

"I guess that means she accepts your apology," Kay said with a giggle as she stood.

"Yes, well now that I am done making a fool of myself, you take her," he said walking over to her with the cat in his arms. Taking the cat in her arms, she looked at him with a mixture of happiness, relief and confusion. "It might get cold, she will help keep you warm," he said, not willing to let her know he was concerned for her even though she probably knew it anyway.

"Thank you," she said flashing him a smile.

He nodded and watched as she walked into the room, closing the door behind her. He debated whether or not he should have a drink before he attempted sleep finally coming to the conclusion he should not. He walked to his couch and lay down pulling a blanket over him only stopping to take off his shoes, jacket, and shirt.

Instead of sleep claiming him he found himself plagued by insistent thoughts of Madame Coralee. All he could do is hope she could help him; lord knew he needed it. When he remembered where he had heard the term empath while talking to Madame Giry it came as quite a shock. During their last meeting Madame Coralee told him of empaths, but as much as he tried he could not remember exactly what had been said.

He closed his eyes, remembering the first time he met her, hoping the more he thought of her it would jog his memory of their last discussion.

Back then he had just been a boy in a cage for the world to be horrified and scream at. He had been foolish and stupid. He had idiotic hopes and dreams then. Madame Coralee had been one person who set him straight and helped him see the truth.

She had walked toward his cage one day after the circus had closed. Erik had found this quite peculiar, not only because she was coming toward him but; because it was rumored she never came out of her tent or talked to anyone except her customers. It was also said she was a powerful witch and that was why she was never wrong about anyone's future. He had heard some say after she gave a reading she would give the person a blessing of some sorts and that it was really a curse so her prediction would become true.

The image of her coming towards him is one he never forgot. Her full pleated black skirt swept around her legs in the wind giving him a glimpse of her bare feet adorned with gold ankle bracelets. The bell sleeves of her maroon peasant blouse whipped around her arms as a purple velveteen bodice held her ample bosom. Her chocolate curls danced around her face and gold hoop earrings. Multiple bangles around her wrists jingled noisily with each step she took holding a bright lantern in her left hand. When she got close enough he saw her face clearly. Her light hazel eyes were piercing and cold. She could not have been more than twenty-five, but her face was somber and looked wise beyond her years.

He immediately thought of hiding his face knowing she had not seen it yet. Just as he put his hand up she spoke.

"No need little one. I've already seen you," she said kindly, but Erik could see her face held no such kindness. It held no emotion at all. Her face was as expressive as an blank mask. She steeped within an inch of his cage staring only at his eyes.

He debated if he should drop his hands. If he did and she screamed it would be no different than any other, he was getting used to it. He dropped his hands watching her carefully for the horror to form on her mask like face. However, her perfect mask held.

"I take it you did not believe me. I did not come here to stare at you, little one," she said.

He said nothing in response. He was still trying to believe his horrid face did not repulse her. Then he had the craziest thought; maybe she could help him.

"Are you a witch? Do you have powers?" he asked hoping she would confirm what he had over heard many times.

She didn't answer him right away. "You want me to make your face normal," she said finally with a sad tone.

He began to get excited and crawled toward her. "You knew what I was thinking. You must be a witch!" he declared.

"I am no such thing little one. No one can make you what you wish to be, only you can do that from the inside," she said cryptically.

"What does that mean?" he questioned, feeling his anger rising. Maybe she was a fraud after all.

"Maybe one day you will be lucky enough to find out."

He wanted to shout at her, but knew it would do him no good. From her cold eyes he knew she could not and would not help him. "Then what did you come here for?" he growled.

"I came to tell you what I've seen and let me do you a favor," she said. When he said nothing she continued, "you will lead a very tragic life little one."

He rolled his green eyes at her. "Figured that one all by yourself? I'm in a cage. You might want to come up with something a little more original," he said raising his voice.

Though her face betrayed nothing he could tell by her stance she was amused by his out burst. This only caused him to feel more anger.

"Youth," she said with a chuckle shaking her head. "Let me elaborate and one day you might thank me. Your life will be a tragic one. You will kill and terrorize others all because of the face you were born with. But, little one, hear me loud and clear, you will have a chance at redemption and even love. Not everyone will be disgusted by your face."

He began to laugh and not out of happiness. "How could anyone not be disgusted by this?" he asked pointing to his face.

"You would be surprised little one," she said. "Anyway, think on what I have said many years from now when you feel all hope is lost," she added. She turned her head to the sky abruptly. "I must go. I will be back another time and hope you do not refuse my simple request." With that she turned and ran out of sight her chocolate hair bouncing behind her.

After their first talk he found himself enthralled by her. She was not only beautiful and nice, but she did not flinch when she first saw him.

She came to him several times always asking him the same favor, but before she did, she would try to fines him by always letting him ask a question of her that she would answer truthfully. He always looked forward to asking something random but hated when she would ask her question even though he would refuse. He usually asked her questions of her past and if there was anyone she knew that would help him. She always answered the same way she had when he had first asked. When he asked her what she saw for herself, she paused as seeing it at that moment and said she would marry rich. At this he laughed aloud, finding himself to not be the only dreamer. She was the first to ever earn his respect.

Because of her he was partial to women with soft chocolate curls that bounced with smallest of movement. When he had first seen Christine he thought it was some kind of sign since she had the same hair the fortuneteller did. He had thought maybe by easing her pain he could redeem himself in some way. Once the girl grew into a woman he began to believe maybe, just maybe, Madame Coralee had been right about his future. He convinced himself this girl would return his love and not fear his face. This turned out not to be the case. For the first time in her life, Madame had been wrong.

He had been a fool to believe to a gypsy fortuneteller's words. Yet now he would have to listen to them again whether or not he wanted to.

Just then everything about their last talk came to him, his memory so vivid he swore he could feel her next to him him.

This last time her face finally showed emotion, a sad emotion. She grazed the tip of her finger against the perfect side of his face before she spoke. "Hey there little one."

"You are sad. Why?" he asked with concern knowing it had to be something bad.

She shook her head. "Nothing. Now what is your question for today?"

"Of all the abilities in the world, what do you believe is the most powerful?"

"Is this another way of asking if there was someone to help you?" she asked smiling knowingly.

As always she saw straight through him.

"Alas, I shall answer your question. I believe empaths is the are the most powerful."

"Why? What is an empath?"

"They are people like you and I just more attuned to what other people feel. To be more specific, they feel exactly what other people are feeling around them."

"Why is that so powerful? It seems stupid to me."

"Ah, well you are young and may not understand exactly how much of a hold our emotions have on us. Empaths are extremely powerful, dangerous, and rare. One can never lie to them. They always know what truly lies in the heart of another. Surely you see the power in that."

He thought about it seeing the potential an empath had. "So could they be used by another person to point out enemies?"

"You could, but that would be very wrong little one. They are pure of heart, and as I said, a true empath is very rare and unheard of now, which is a good thing. Empaths are tortured by everyone they meet."

"Why? It sounds like they have an amazing gift. People would pay handsomely for their services; they could make the best alliances," he said confused by her words.

She shook her head, "Use your brain little one. What do you think it would be like feeling what everyone else feels? All their pain, suffering, joy, hate, love, sadness, and death. If you were an empath, would you want to be near anyone else? They are hurt daily just by being in someone's presence," she said looking into his eyes hoping he know understood.

He did and shook his head.

"Good. Now before I go, I must ask you one more time," she said sincerely wishing he would say yes.

"I don't know why you ask. You should know by now I will always say no."

"I have hope little one."

"Hope is for fools," he stated plainly.

"It may be thirty years or more from now and I will hope you will finally consent."

Thirty year? He would be in this cage for that long, if not longer. No he would not let that happen. "Will I be here forever?" hating the fear that crept into his voice.

"No Erik," using his name for the first time. "You will kill to leave."

The very next night he did just that.

Erik's mind snapped back to the present time and place. Madame Coralee had been so knowledgeable back then, he just hoped that if she was alive she still would be able to help him with Kay.

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**A/N: Please review and let me know what you think. I dearly love to read your comments.**


	12. Hated Consequence

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**A/N: **Hope you like this chapter!

**Chapter Twelve: Hated Consequence **

It had been over a week since Madame Giry told him of the new patron, Armand Delancey. Erik and Kay spent that time listening to the alarms from the tunnels go off. No one got close, but this man's searchers sure were persistent.

This Delancey man was starting to bug him. Several times he came close to mentioning him to Kay. Every time something held him back. He didn't know why, but he felt like she just did not need to hear about him.

When Kay asked about the alarms and why they kept going off he lied, telling her it was probably rats or some reporter who was eager to find out how the infamous phantom had lived down here for so many years.

She gave the appearance of believing him, but he knew she sensed he was lying. He could not help but wonder why she did not press the matter. His only conclusion was that she really did not care or she was starting to trust him and thought he was only trying not to protect her.

If it was because she was starting to trust him, he did not know if he deserved it. At any second he could lash out at her, just because she said the wrong thing or asked the wrong question. No one would know if he did, except for Madame Giry. He had not hurt her, yet. She might trust him, but could he trust himself with her? He constantly thought of the first thing he thought of when Madame Coralee told him of empaths. Even now he thought of using her to manipulate others. He kept thinking about how easy it would be to control her. He knew his anger would do the trick.

But no, he pushed his evil thoughts away. Maybe in the past he could have used her, but now? After all he had gone through and what he guessed happened to her, no, she had been tortured enough. Every time he looked into her eyes he saw his own pain reflected back.

They had not talked much over the past few days. Then again, there did not seem to be anything to say. Neither wished to speak of their pasts and the only subject they seemed to have in common was music. Unfortunately, there was only so much one could say about music.

She still was not eating enough. She would have fruit and water, but never what he would call a full course meal.

He had been happy to learn she loved to read. He had an extensive book collection that had managed to escape the fire's smoke. Surprisingly, one of her favorite novels turned out to be Les Miserables.

With each passing day he had noticed she seemed more distracted and stressed as if something was weighing heavily on her mind. Several times yesterday he caught her sitting on the couch simply staring at the open book. Her eyes did not move and gave no acknowledgment he had entered the room. When he asked her if she needed to talk, her eyes would come back into focus and she would ask him if he said something.

Today it was the same way.

He had become annoyed with her and the way she would occasionally pet Elvira, so he decided to take a walk through the tunnels. He'd told her he was going to check on the alarms. Now making his way back, he hoped she was better or at least wanted to talk. Her silenced pain was driving him mad.

The gondola touched shore and he stepped out seeing Elvira prancing up to him. Elvira never left Kay. Where was she?

"Kay?" he bellowed. Receiving no reply, he immediately marched over to the music room.

Kay sat on the couch, Les Miserables closed on her lap, her hands clutched on top of it, staring straight across the room at a wall. She turned her head, her tear filled eyes meeting his.

"Kay?" he questioned walking over to her quickly, keeling so his face would be level with hers'.

She swallowed staring at him. "I need to see Madame Giry," she said. Her bottom lip began to quiver.

"Why? What's wrong?" he questioned. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, but she turned her head away from him abruptly, leaving him feel rejected and angry.

She shook her head slowly, her whole body beginning to tremble. "Please," she pleaded not daring to meet his gaze.

He stood letting the words tumble out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying

"Does it have something to do with me? Can you not stand to be near me anymore? Do you think me a monster because of the mask I wear?" Even as he said the words he knew how irrational he was being. More than likely the only things she could not handle were his emotions. She probably could sense she was making him feel on edge.

Her trembling turned into violent shaking. The book in her lap began to slip. She caught it in her shaking hands and held it to her chest. He knew she was doing everything in her power not to cry.

He immediately felt remorse. "I did not mean any of that. I'll take you to her."

She nodded and stood still clutching the book as if it were her only lifeline.

They traveled to Madame Giry's room in silence. In the back of his mind he kept thinking it had something to do with him. Maybe she had sensed what a monster he truly was. As much as he had tried to change, his thoughts and temper kept getting in the way. If she really wished to leave, he would let her.

Just like he let Christine. Even though it had happened more than a year ago: he felt the same stab of pain in his heart the night he told her to leave.

The small hand in his clenched harder with a strength he did not know it possessed. He looked back at her. Her eyes silently told him to stop feeling and thinking such painful things. Yet he could not. How does one not think of the past? How does one avoid such pain?

As they arrived outside Madame Giry's wardrobe he motioned for her to keep silent. Hearing no one on the other side, he clicked the latch and allowed the girl to go through first.

Finding Madame Giry on the bed: he began to shake her. He hoped it would not be like the last time when she muttered incoherent thoughts.

She opened her eyes slowly. Seeing his face, she promptly turned on her side, her back facing him. "Go away," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"Mad-" he started, only to be cut off by her.

"I just got to sleep and you had to wake me up. Have you no compassion?" she asked.

"Maybe we should go," said a whispered voice. He and Madame Giry turned to face the speaker.

Kay stood with her back up against the wardrobe wall looking hurt and confused. She has clutching the book tighter, if that was even possible.

At this sight, Madame Giry shot out of her bed putting on her robe hurriedly.

"I didn't know you were there child," she said as a way of apologizing for her actions.

The girl nodded, but said nothing in return. Madame Giry looked to Erik for an explanation of why they were there.

"Kay needed to speak with you," he said and waited for Kay to say something. As usual she did not.

"All right. Kay, why don't you come sit over here," she said motioning to her comfortable bed she had been forced to leave. Madame Giry carefully studied the girl sitting beside her. "What do you wish to talk about?" she asked kindly.

Erik could clearly see Madame Giry was hoping the girl would finally open up and tell them what had happened to her.

Not meeting Erik's eyes Kay said, "I need to speak with you, _alone_," she said to Madame Giry.

"Of course," Madame Giry said and stood up to stand between Kay and Erik. She obviously believed there might be a problem. "Well, Erik. I'll let you know when we are done…chatting," she said starting to push him towards the wardrobe, only to feel him resist.

He had been right; it was about him. "But, what can she not say in front of me?" he asked sounding much like a whining child.

"That's none of your business," she scolded using more of her strength to push him.

"But…" She may not be the best of company, but he had gotten used to her presence. Letting her go was going to be harder than he thought, but nothing compared to…no he would not think about it. Finally he gave up and let her push him into the wardrobe.

She followed him, closing the panel behind her.

"I think she wants to talk about what happened, so you need to leave and don't hang around. I'll know if you do," she said in a hushed voice so the girl could not hear.

"Fine," he growled, his anger claiming him. "But you will tell me everything she says."

"I most certainly will not if she tells me not to," she said sounding annoyed.

"You will," he demanded.

She took a step closer to then so they were almost touching. "I will not."

He turned on his heel angrily. "Let me know when you two are do talking," he said as he left.

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Hours later, an alarm went off letting him know Madame Giry and Kay were done talking. And she was probably long gone. Why did he care so much? What was she to him? She was just some woman he saved. She was not special to him.

Deep down he knew she was. She had seen his mask and didn't react. She felt all his emotions and asked no questions. She knew he lied and seemed not to care. She just accepted him. Or at least he thought she had.

She had deceived him in every way. She bid her time and now she left without a word.

He supposed he deserved it. How foolish he had been to think she could stand to be around him. She had told him his emotions were changing every second, that it was driving her crazy. He should have seen this coming.

The journey was slow. He had no desire to hurry only to be told she had left.

When he stood outside Madame Giry's wardrobe he did not hear Kay's voice. Then again she was not much of a talker. He lifted his hand to click the latch, hesitating only a second. He opened it slowly. He stepped through and nearly smiled.

Kay lay stretched out on Madame Giry's bed looking almost peaceful. The book she had not dare let go before lay at the foot of the bed.

He looked to Madame Giry who was sitting in a chair seeming highly upset. She stood immediately and grabbed his arm pulling him into the hall.

Surprised by this, he only was able to glance once more at Kay before the door closed. He hoped her dreams would not visit her while they were out of the room.

"Madame, what-"

"She was raped," Madame Giry spat, looking murderous.

His face fell completely. His small happiness of seeing Kay left him. "Are you sure?" he asked, panicked.

"She said she blacked out before they…" her voice cracked, not letting her finish her sentence.

They…it resounded in his mind. Those three men and he had failed to kill them. His hands tightened into fists as homicidal rage consumed him. Why had he not just killed them? If it had not been for a stupid promise they would not be breathing. After what they did…his urge to punch something was getting stronger by the second.

Madame Giry bowed her head and murmured something he did not understand.

"Speak up," he growled.

"She's late," she said only a tiny bit louder.

"What do you mean?" his mind had been overcome by anger, all logic gone. Then it hit him. "Is she sure?" his concern for the girl over powered his rage for a second.

"Yes," she said her entire face reflecting his own concern. "Erik, she was so terrified. I told her some times that happens due to extreme stress."

He nodded at her explanation knowing it was a small possibility. He could only hope she was right.

"If she doesn't get it soon…"

"I know." He closed his eyes trying to calm himself.

"She doesn't know I told you, so try not to let her know."

'That will be impossible' he thought to himself, but just nodded in agreement with Madame Giry.

She reached for the doorknob, but stopped short.

"I found out about Madame Coralee. She was married many years ago to some rich man. Your letter should reach her soon," she said still staring at the door.

So the fortuneteller had not been just day dreaming, she really did end up snatching up a rich man. Maybe he still could find that redemption and love she had talked about.

"I just forgot cause…" not finishing, she opened the door and went inside, Erik on her heels.

He went to Kay's side quickly. He stared down at her hating everything that had happened to her and the way he had acted.

"You are going to take her back now?"

He nodded in reply.

"I'm worried about her. When she told me, she didn't cry. In fact there was almost no emotion," she said. "When she breaks down it's going to be bad Erik."

"I know," he said softly and bent down to pick up the girl. She rested her head against his shoulder not waking.

Taking a book off of her desk, Madame Giry then handed it to him, along with his own. He looked at her confused by the book.

"I felt she needed to read something with a happier ending," she explained.

He looked at the title, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Figures it was a romance, but from Madame Giry?

"It's Meg's."

Cradling Kay in his strong arms, he walked out of Madame Giry's room without another word. Thoughts of what the future held plagued him as he made his journey back.

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**A/N: I should probably mention I am very severe on my characters. I still don't know whether or not it will have a happy ending.**


	13. Source of Pain

**The Feeling in Your Heart**

**A/N: **I am so sorry this took so long to update. I had a really bad case of writers block. Hope you like it. Suggestions are more than welcome.

**Chapter Thirteen: Source of Pain**

As Erik laid Kay on his bed; she began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open slowly and studied him.

"She told you." It was a statement, not a question.

He nodded, knowing he could not deny it. Would she be mad? Scared? Embarrassed?

"I had hoped she wouldn't," she looked away as if not knowing what else to say.

"I know," he said also feeling lost for words. "You need your rest."

She nodded, grateful that no more need be said.

As he walked out of the room, full realization hit him, keeping him from sleep. What would she do now? She could not stay here. Especially if she was…he did not even want to think the word. If he did, he knew it would only be further confirmation of what had happened to her.

But how could he have thought it did not? The marks on the inside of her thighs had been telling enough. There was no denying it. One of the animals had even said it himself. He recalled the exact words as if they had just been said yesterday.

_"Bet what we did to you hurts, doesn't it?"_

How could he have been so foolish as to think that monster had only been referring to the terrible lashes on her back? It was just wishful thinking.

The more he thought the more hate and rage consumed his being. Turning fast, he punched the stone wall next to the organ, splitting his fist wide open. And, yet, he felt none of it.

For the first time in his life he had willingly speared lives and it turned out he shouldn't have.

And Kay had not been the only one, of that he was sure. In her dreams she relived the horrifying experience.

Had they killed the other girl? They probably tortured her first, just like they did Kay. Did Kay feel it all? Not only her own pain: but also, the other girl's suffering? Had she felt the other girl die? Was that even possible?

The more he thought about it the more questions with no answers rose. If only he could ask her everything. He knew his patience was starting to wear thin.

Why would she not talk to him? He could understand why she told Madame Giry what she had and not him, but why not everything else? Or something at least. Anything at all would help.

He dragged his feet to the couch and lay down not bothering with his clothing. It was getting colder each day and his energy had been drained.

Pulling the blanket across him, he closed his eyes wishing sleep would claim him as it had claimed Kay.

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He woke what seemed to be seconds later to his cat licking the wound on his hand. Without opening his eyes, he lifted his hand and batted the cat away. What his hand brushed against felt nothing like a cat.

Startled, he opened his eyes and what he saw was definitely not Elvira.

It was Christine.

"Erik?" she questioned softly, her beautiful innocent voce caressing his ears like sweet music. Her face kind and pure, chocolate curls framing it. Finally she was here, she came back. Back to him. He nearly smiled as his heart soared with happiness, the pain he had been carrying with him finally lifted.

"Erik?" she asked again, sounding more concerned. Wait, no, the voice had changed.

He blinked quickly, his eyes finally coming into focus. It had been a dream. Inwardly he cursed himself. Why did he always let dreams like that one get the better of him?

"Erik?" Kay asked again. She knelt next to him wearing the light blue coat Madame Giry gave to her over her nightdress. She held a damp cloth with his blood on it. She cocked her head to the side, clearly worried about him.

"Where you dreaming of _her_?" she asked him carefully.

He stared at her in shock.

"How do you know of _her_?" he growled, standing up to tower over her kneeling form.

She looked up at him and rose slowly as if she knew she was treading on dangerous ground.

"I-I-I could feel it," she stuttered as she began to back away from him.

Before he knew what he was doing he flew at her. Grabbing her, he threw her against the wall and put his hand around her neck, holding her in place. Bring his face close to hers' he began screaming at her.

"Stay out of my head. Stay out of my emotions. They are private!" She was never to know of _her_, but she did and it infuriated him.

He began squeezing tighter, her body gasping for air. She struggled against him, her small hands tugging on his wrist for release.

"You little witch. I can't stand it. Can I keep nothing from you? Can't my dreams at least be secret?" he screamed in her face. He studied her eyes and lowered his voice causing his face to become unreadable. "You think you know, don't you?" his voice suddenly even and controlled.

He was beyond all reason, but he knew enough not to strangle her. He had something to say and she would hear it. He let go of her neck, allowing her to breathe, and instead grabbed her wrists and held them above her head with one hand, the other at her waist. He pressed the entire length of his body against her ceasing her hopeless struggle. Her chest heaved against his own, still trying to catch her breath. His crazed eyes bore into her fearful tearless ones.

"You think you understand my pain. You think I am a monster don't you?" Not waiting for an answer he continued, "I loved her," willing her to believe him.

"I loved her more than any other could have, and she left," he said sadly, tears threatening to fall. He could feel his heart breaking again and watched as Kay's did too. Her face went white and she resumed her struggle against him.

"STOP!" she screamed. "Stop it, please…" she said brokenly. "You must stop," she gasped as if extreme pain.

He could not, instead he watched her. She seemed to be in more pain than he.

"Tell me why," he said softly. "Tell me why she did not love me. Tell me why see choose him."

Her blue pain filled eyes met his.

"I do not know," she said.

He put his forehead against hers' in defeat the tips of their noses touching. He had hope she might know; know why. Then he would have his burning question answered. But the girl could not do that for him: unless he took her to Christine. Only then would he have his answer. Only then. But could he do that? Could he hurt Kay more? Would he even be able to find Christine?

"Please let me go."

Kay's voice snapped him back to reality. Looking at her he could see fear was not written across her face as it was before now that she could sense his anger was gone.

Suddenly realizing their proximity he let go and jumped back as if she had burnt him. The second he did so she slid to the ground clutching her heart and gasping for breath. In his blind anger he had not thought of what he was doing to her.

He could see marks from his hand bruising her neck. But he knew that could not be the reason she collapsed. This had been the moment he had been worried about, the moment he lost control around her. He hesitated to go to her; if he lost control again she might not be so lucky.

He approached her slowly and knelt beside her observing her face. It was contorted in anguish, but there were no tears.

"I didn't," he started, but found himself unable to complete a sentence.

"You have to stop doing this to me," she said slowly, not turning to look at him.

"I just…" he just what? What could he say to make this all right? "Are you going to be all right?" he asked, watching her face get steadily paler.

"Yeah," she said nodding her head slowly. Then she began to shake her head. "No." She stood up quick putting her hand to her mouth and ran to the bathroom.

He stood, thinking of going after her, but found himself unable to move his feet in her direction. He was responsible for her pain, fear, and stress. It was best he just stay away from her for a while. Madame Coralee would take her off his hands, he was sure of it.

First he had to find a way of getting Kay around Christine. Then he could live and die in peace.

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**A/N: I hope you liked it. Please review and tell me what you think. Reviews inspire me!!!**


	14. Only Way Out

**The Feeling In Your Heart**

**A/N: **I am so sorry this took so long. Trying to juggle school and everything else is pretty hard, but I doing it any way! So I hope you like this chapter, I've been writing a little bit every now and then, so I hope my hard work has paid off. Thanks for reading!**  
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**Chapter Fourteen: Only Way Out**

Kay sat on the bathroom floor for what seemed like days. Though she had been barely eating her stomach had revolted against what little she had. Now only her head continued to spin. She kept her eyes squeezed shut knowing any light might only make her feel worse. Her sickness had confirmed her worst fear.

She knew she could not continue like this. She had nowhere to go and she certainly could not stay here. Everywhere was dangerous in one way or another. She wanted to be done with hiding. She wanted to be done with feeling. She wanted to be done with everything. There was nothing left for her in this world, other than the baby. Her baby.

She felt her body respond at the thought of the tiny life within her womb. She leaned her head against the wall and put a trembling hand to her belly, wondering about the life inside. Several times she had tried to sense the baby, but had failed. How could she not feel something so much apart of herself?

What if Madame Giry was right? It could just be stress and the loss of so much weight. But she knew Madame Giry had just been reaching for an explanation, for some kind of hope. After all she couldn't say with certainty whether or not she had been raped, but it seemed unlikely she hadn't and she knew Madame Giry felt the same way. If their feelings were correct, she knew she could not raise a baby. Not by herself, not with the way she was. What if the baby grew to have her ability? She could not allow that to be. Just by existing her baby would grow up tortured, just like her.

She felt so powerless. Her choices were limited and she knew it. No, she wasn't limited at all. She had no choice. There was only one way out. Her only problem was the decision did not just affect her, but she was determined to tell herself it was the best solution for everyone.

Opening her eyes slowly her gaze fell on the sink and she quickly looked away. A feeling of shame over took her. She knew it was wrong; it went against all her promises. She looked at the sink again, her eyes immediately falling on the steel shaving blade. She stood unsteadily and slowly moved towards it.

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He began walking with his head hanging down, feeling more and more guilty as the seconds went by. Why was she staying in there so long? He knew what he had done had been wrong, but he would not apologize this time. This time he refused to care. Besides, none of this was his fault. He didn't ask for her to be thrown into his life. The last thing he needed or wanted was some woman messing it up. One woman had been enough.

God must be having a quite a laugh at his expense. He sends a woman who is not afraid of his mask or face, just the kind of woman he had always wished for. The only catch was she was afraid of everything else about him. There was also the tricky little emotion sensing. He just couldn't stand it! Who did she think she was to tell him he was wrong about his own feelings. They were his feelings; he knew what he felt and what it meant.

Maybe it was good that she stay shut up in the bathroom. He knew he needed space from her and was glad to have it. But why did he feel so anxious and worried? It couldn't be because of her. It had to be his plan. If his plan were successful he would finally know why, why she didn't love him, why she didn't care about him or even think of him.

He lifted his head in surprise when he heard one of his alarms go off. He took a quick look at his alarm panel to find out it was coming from Madame Giry's. For a split second he panicked, thinking Kay had some how slipped pass his notice and was trying to leave him, but he quickly discounted the thought. His heart leaped in realization of what the alarm actually meant. He quickly grabbed his jacket and headed to the gondola. Just before he got in he glanced at the bathroom door. For a second he felt uncertain and then a strong need to bang on the door over took him. But it was just a fleeting feeling that he easily shot down and climbed into his boat feeling he would be back before Kay would even notice he had left.

"There you are," Madame Giry said as she heard the wardrobe open. She didn't bother to look up at him. She was much too busy trying to read the still sealed letter as she held it up to the light. "If you had taken any longer I was going to open it myself."

"Such a nice warm welcome," Erik said sarcastically.

She finally peered up at him, choosing to ignore his comment she said, "I'm not an idiot you know. I know who Madame Coralee is and I can't imagine what you are thinking." She sighed in exasperation when she received nothing but a glare from Erik. "If you would just tell me what you wrote to Madame Coralee or you could at least tell me why you wrote her.Obviously it has to do with the girl, but I fail to understand why."

"I don't expect you to understand Antoinette. Now will you just give me that letter?" he said reaching out an expectant hand.

Madame Giry glanced from the letter in her hand to Erik and then began to look around the room as if she had just realized something was missing. She put a hand on her hip and raised an accusing eyebrow at him. "Where is Kay? Please tell me you didn't leave her alone." She began to look even more worried and suspicious when he didn't answer her. "Is she all right? You didn't…" her voiced trailed away not able to finish the question with the look she was receiving.

"You still think I'm a monster don't you? Your opinion of me will never change!" he said angered.

She knew she should never have thought he would hurt Kay, but his attitude was always so fowl. She quickly began apologizing to avoid inflaming his temper even more. "No Erik, I never thought you were and still do not. It's just…where is she?"

He stared at her for a while as if trying to decide whether or not to justify her question with an answer. "She is fine," he said finally. "We got into a big argument and she locked herself in the bathroom and has refused come out."

"That is none of your business," he said, his anger starting to rise as a result of her constant prying.

She sensed this and decided to drop the matter and revert to more important things.She looked back at the letter still clutched in her hand and grudgingly handed it to Erik. He quickly undid the seal and his eyes became glued to the writing on the paper. She watched attentively as the expression on his face remained unreadable, that is, until he reached the end of the letter.

His expression became confused and slightly surprised. Then Madame Giry saw an expression she knew to be very rare from him: worry and panic. She watched as he immediately began reading the page over again and turned it over searching for anything more, but there was none.

At this point she could stand the suspense no longer. "Erik, what is it?"

He looked up at her with worried green eyes. "I-I've got to go," he said hurriedly as he began stuffing the letter in her hand. With that he rushed out of her room, through the wardrobe, and into the darkness of the tunnels.

Madame Giry stood stunned for a few minutes after his sudden departure. When she recovered she looked down at the letter and began to read it.

_Dear Monsieur Erik,_

_It would only be natural for me to say that I am surprised you have written me after all these years, yet I am not. I have been constantly plagued by thoughts of you as of late. I am glad that you are alive and as well as can be expected._

_Now as for what you have written me about, I am not positive I can help you. All I can do is try. As you may have heard, I married very well and because of this I have been able to devise a plan with the help of my daughter, Mayra that will not raise any suspicion. Within the next week I plan to visit the Opera House under the guise of planning on becoming a patron. After all, I am known for my love of the Arts. I will tell the manager I am an old friend of Madame Giry's and I am sure he will have no problem with my staying there for a few days. Besides, I hear he is in desperate need of funding, so I am sure I will hear no objection from him. During this time, my daughter and I will try to help you in any way we can._

_Since I received your letter I have been trying to sense as much as the powers that be will allow me. I don't know much, but I have a feeling her life is in danger. It would be wise to keep your eyes and ears open. There is more I wish to tell you, but I will wait until I see you in person. _

_I feel the need to remind you that though the girl is special, she is human. She is very vulnerable and scarred. I think she is in much more pain than you choose to believe. You probably think you are the last person on Earth that will be able to help her. However, I believe you may be the only person able to save her. _

_I now ask that you give this letter to Madame Giry and go to the girl. I am certain she is about to do something really stupid unless you can get to her in time, I am afraid she won't be with you much longer. Please remember these two things when you find her. The first being that she is able to empathize with you, you need to learn to do the same for her. The second is that patience is a virtue. Now go!_

_ Your old friend,  
Mrs. Jessenia Coralee-__Reynolds_

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Erik ran through the tunnel not paying a bit of attention as to where his feet fell. Everything at this point was instinctual; he didn't need light to see or the presence of mind to find his way. He let his body take over and his mind wander. He knew he needed to reach Kay as soon as humanly possible, but he was afraid of what condition he might find her in.

While Madame Coralee's letter had started casual, it had ended with a shock. He could see that the woman was still very much in touch with the powers that be, but he only hoped it would be enough to help Kay.

He finally reached the gondola and wasted no time jumping in. Occasionally his mind flashed to thoughts of finding Kay gone or seriously hurt, but he would quickly dismiss them. He didn't want to think that way because it…hurt his plans. The two important thoughts Madame Coralee had written at the end of her letter ran through his head as he caught sight of his lair. He could try to empathize, probably not very well, but he knew patience was out of the question.

The second the boat touched land he jump out almost expecting to see Kay right away waiting for him. Instead nothing but silence greeted him, not even the usual meow from Elvira. He immediately began looking around figuring there was no way she had remained in the bathroom so long. He went it the music room and then the bedroom only to find no evidence she had been in either. His thoughts then turned back towards the bathroom and he began walking to it when he heard a tiny pleading meow from that direction and then the scratching of claws on the door. When Elvira sensed him approach her she turned and looked at him as if to say, "What took you so long?"

He walked up to the door and tapped on it lightly as he called for Kay ignoring the small animal at his feet. He waited a minute, but received no reply. He rapped on the door harder thinking and hoping that she had just fallen asleep on the floor. When he heard nothing he began to panic as he remembered the warnings from Madame Coralee. He started shouting for her and began banging on the door. Finally he rammed his shoulder into it breaking it down. He immediately felt his heart sink at the sight that greeted him.

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**A/N:** Please let me know what you thought or Elvira is going to shred you! But if you review she will curl up on your lap and purr. Just want to know what my readers are thinking!!**  
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